My115thDream

Poem - "For You, On Saint Valentine's Day"

St. Valentine would spin in his grave
And tear out the hair from his head,
If only he knew of the hoops we jump through
To honor the names of the dead.
The truth of the matter is sufficiently scattered
And the evidence circumstantial,
That when his life was ended there was ever intended
A farce so inanely substantial.
To shed the charade of mechanically made
Ingrained erroneous rites
Is the only purest path of escape
From a loveless lie in the lights.
Many will balk upon hearing me talk
Of going against the grain,
The ludicrous money for sweet milk and honey
They’ll accuse me of trying to retain.
If this act of disgrace was truly the case,
Why bother with anything more?
If love could be bought, what indeed hath God wrought?
For I’d be a pauper for sure.
But this is not so and it just goes to show
That we’d all be wiser to find
A more fitting method to honor devotion
And possibly repay it in kind.
A good friend of mine who drinks up my wine
And thinks he’s ever so sly,
He stares at his shoes as he drags himself through
The rut from a romp gone awry.
He fails to accept that while most are inept,
A few will hold out for success,
Their patience rewarded, they’ll no longer be thwarted
By a thinly-veiled beautiful mess.
So tonight as we kiss, I’ll forget that I’ve missed
Opportunities not to be taken,
You’re worth more to me than a thousand of those
Who would silently see me forsaken.